


Oblivion

by dovelette



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Actors, Aftermath, Aftermath of Violence, Anxiety, April Showers Challenge, Awkward Conversations, Bathtubs, Blindfolds, Bromance, Bullying, Character Death, Comfort, Crying, Culture Shock, Dead People, Death, Depression, Dramatic, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Fear, Gen, Graphic Description, Guilt, Gun Violence, Guns, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Killing, Loner, Older Man/Younger Woman, Panic, Running Away, School Shootings, Sensitive Material, Serial Killers, Shooting, Shooting Guns, Social Issues, Socially awkward, Suicidal Thoughts, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Suspense, Tears, Teen Angst, Teens, Theatre, Tragedy, Unrequited Crush, Violence, Weapons, big time rush - Freeform, depressed, james x katie, unstable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:49:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovelette/pseuds/dovelette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you escape a maniac with a gun from inside an inclosed building? And even if you do manage to live, will the aftermath allow you to cope with the harsh reality of suffering and sorrow awaiting the survivors? James/Katie, all boys, intense tragedy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warnings

**Author's Note:**

> I am in the process of writing a few other stories but this idea jumped into my mind and I could not help but to introduce it already!
> 
> This is a Big Time Rush fanfiction featuring James and multiple characters who must endure the after math of a school shoot out. My story is based on the emotional movie "April's Showers" which was inspired by the events that took place at Columbine High School, April 20, 1999.
> 
> Reviews, critiques and questions are appreciated; I hope you enjoy this tear-jerker and that this work can also honor the memory of those lost.
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> Written in 2012. Uploaded from Fanfiction.net
> 
> I do not claim copyright or ownership of any character appearing in this piece of fiction nor am I earning a profit for producing this work. I also admit that I have closely followed the script of "April's Showers" and do not claim that this story is purely from my own imagination.
> 
> All characters of Big Time Rush © Nickelodeon and many scenes and inspiration (c) Andrew Robinson, the writer and producer of "April's Showers"
> 
> **Rating:**
> 
> Mature-Violence, guns/weapons, sensitive subject material, character death, suicide, depression and potential graphic imagery

The quiet, distilled vibrating crescendo of a phone buzzed multiple times within the confines of a jean pocket of a boy apparently disconnected from reality. He stood stock still, his ears blocking out the unimportant yammering of adolescents crowding close to his resolute yet shaken body. Hazel irises speckled with gold gazed staunchly forward at a plain wall, playing the gory memories seared into his mind over and over again.

"Hello? Hello, James?"

"Camille...hey."

"Oh my goodness," Her breath hissed through the speakers, thoroughly relieved,

"Thank God you're alright!"

"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine." He stated, knowing it was a lie, "Where are you?"

"I'm at Einstein's Café a few blocks over from school, where have you been?" She asked, tone frantic and still ringing with shock,

"I'm pent up at Jefferson Elementary. They won't let us leave. And…a lot of people are still missing."

"James, don't worry." She gushed, "It's over."

"Over…?"

"Yeah-they got the shooter." Her voice dropped, leaving him hanging in silence.

"C-Camille? Camille, who-"

"It's…it was Seth." The name pummeled him, like when a fist strikes a gut. Stunned, James tilted away from the receiver, mind reeling. A soft and timid voice gently called out towards him from the speaker, anchoring the distraught teenager back to reality.

"James I'm sorry…I thought you knew. James? Hello, are you there? Hello?"

 

* * *

 Earlier That Day

* * *

 

A parking lot filled with a wild assortment of vehicles ranging from the utmost of luxury to the over-used piles of junk somehow managing to hold their gears together, witnessed the everyday entrance of thousands of kids beginning their early morning migration towards the academic institution.

Across the way a thin and rather pale student, with a large load of books held securely in his hands, scurried through the forest of Lexes, Dodges and those hailing from a Hyundai branch. After scaling the steel valley of a Volks Wagon, the boy emerged in the middle of the roadway, cheerfully headed to class.

Feet are a tricky thing, often taking us to places we really should not go and other times allowing us to kick up our heels and dance our worries away. Although these tendencies of feet may not always be beneficial to the owner, the primitive aspect of footwear usually does not hamper one's journey unless it has become untied or if it has been tampered with. And in this case, neither of these situations occurred. Rather, some kid wearing a beige Quicksilver t-shirt struck his shin out, causing the protagonist of these past few paragraphs to haphazardly trip.

"Better watch where you're going next time, dweeb!" The jeer of the older student mocked the boy frantically trying to gather up his belongings spilt across the entire mid-section of the street.

Shuffling on the pavement, he quickly grabbed his textbooks, stuffing stacks of paper back into his backpack without caring which order they arrived. Normally he was a very conspicuous fellow, prone to accuracy and established order yet both these traits blew out the window the moment he realized what a unfortunate situation he had found himself within-ears tinged red in embarrassment due to cars on either side of him honking for him to get out of the way.

"Here man, let me help you with that." The presence of another crouched besides the pale teen while both students gathered the loose material together. Momentarily, they were able to shift to the sidewalk, bumped by other students along the way who were also running late for class.

"Don't let them get to you." Logan looked up at the new comer, flicking his attention back down upon recognizing his protector,

"It's easy for you to say that until they pick on you, James." The boy in question blinked into the sunlight, shielding his face as his other arm passed over the remaining papers that he salvaged from the black asphalt,

"Just think, in a few more weeks, we'll all be out of here."

"I know; I've been counting down the days. I can't wait until graduation!" James glanced over at Logan who was solely preoccupied with straightening out the contents of his backpack,

"I thought you were in my class?"

A shy smile slipped across his stern features, "I was a junior with you until I moved up a grade."

"That's great, good for you!" Thin eyebrows arched up in surprise of the genuine compliment, followed by a quiet stammering,

"Um…thanks you." James returned the boy's more timid gaze, light brown eyes shining with good-natured cheerfulness,

"Yeah, no worries." The tall, lanky one shrugged his shoulders before bending slightly downward to make eye contact with his shorter companion, "I'll see you at rehearsal?"

"Oh yes…alright. See you then." With that, the scatter brained, stripped shirt-wearing boy took off awkwardly, stuffing the more bulbous books between the crevice of his armpit as he stalked across the blacktop and into the main entrance of Maplewood High.

"Bye." James muttered as an afterthought, brushing off Logan's cold reception by digging his hands into the side pockets of his jeans. Maneuvering slowly up the grey, dew stained pavement, James resumed his walk across campus. He had managed to leave the crowded parking lot far behind when some unknown force told him to look up, feeling the weight of another's eyes upon him.

There she was, standing at a distance, surrounded by a gaggle of chatting girls. The wind wisped her dark auburn brown locks about her collarbone, her golden irises catching his own for a split second before they darted down, meekly appraising the blades of grass sprouting beneath her gladiator styled sandals.

And instead of taking the opportunity to speak with her, James walked right on by as if nothing was out of place. His heartbeat however, gave him away, hammering within his ribcage until he proceeded under the dull, taupe entryway of East hall, certain that her mesmerizing gaze could no longer pierce his translucent countenance.

Inside, he casually brushed past fellow classmates, the majority a sea of unrecognizable faces. The metallic slam of lockers being shut, the click of a brigade of shoes scuffling about the tiled floor mixed fluidly with the simultaneous activities occurring within the swarming hallway. A loud, squawking voice could be heard above the commotion, emitting from a rotund man grasping a pronounced white hand-held microphone.

"Move along people, yes just like cattle! We don't have all day ladies; you can re-apply your faces during snack period. No butts about it Miss Johnson, I don't want to report you. Ah and Tim, quit trying to trip Mr. DeAndrews, yeah that's right- I can see you! And Donny, this has to be the twentieth time I've told you not to spit in the-"

"Heya Mr. G!" James waved, harnessing the large man's attention while allowing Donny to melt away in the crowd, escaping a harsh scolding and the potential fate of winding up in detention for the third time this April.

"Ah James, nice to see you again kiddo!"

"Yeah, you too. Livin' the life, ain't you?" The brunette chuckled, pacing himself a few steps behind the beefy man motioning for students to get to class,

"Ha hah, right!" He murmured sarcastically, "Monitoring hallways is what I live for, it's the reason why I worked so hard to earn my PHD." James slapped him on the back for encouragement, pushing away by cracking open the door to his first period class,

"Take it easy Gustavo."

"You know I will," He beamed, meandering through the hall still teeming with life, "Oh, tell Principle Griffin in the office that I say hello when Mrs. Harding gives you a tardy slip!"

Upon closing the door behind him, James entered English class 325. Conversation stilled and switched to the topic of the ever so prompt individual slinking across the front of the room, sliding skillfully behind the teacher's back without her glancing up from writing the day's lesson on the white board.

"You…are…late." Mrs. Harding stated, a withered hand scrawling with a red marker in ancient and illegible cursive as James calmly slunk into his chair, spouting off quite confidently,

"Yes, yes I am."

Folded hands landed on square hips, the crotchety woman poising herself to berate the lazy pupil until she decided against it, shaking her graying curls in disappointment,

"Well, now that you've graced us all with your presence Mr. Diamond, we'll resume the daily announcements. Sam, turn it on please."

With the probing of a button, the old VCR player ate up the black rectangle. A cheesy melody churned out of the overly loud amps hooked up to the computer system stationed below the hanging television set, opening Maplewood's prized news casting team. The static of the monitor soon flourished into life as the image of two girls appeared on screen, the chiming voice of a young freshman awakening drowsy students at their desks,

"Good morning Maplewood! I'm Katie Knight with my co-host Mary Sutherland and we'll be bringing you the daily report. Take it away Mary."

James decidedly lost interest as soon as the freckled teen with the braid began to speak, more interested in absently doodling on his notebook cover than pay attention to news about tryouts for sports teams and local bake sales. However, his pencil claimed freedom the moment the pretty brunette began to speak, the lead encased in wood coming to a stop as hazel brown eyes trailed up to watch the petite girl cheerfully bantering to her co-host on the frequency induced screen.

"Something interesting you, eh James?" His pencil dropped, startled by the greasy kid slouching in the chair behind him.

"Um, uh…no, I was just watching the news." James stuttered, eyes forward and intently paying attention to Mary discussing the anticipated arrival of Korean exchange students.

"Yeah sure. Whatever you say." The thin, dark haired man smirked, reclining in his disproportionate chair, "You just better not be droolin' over my sweet little sister."

"What do you mean by that?" James twisted around slightly in his desk to face his misanthropic colleague. Before he could understand what the familiar slime ball was indicating, his attention yet again was ripped back towards the TV with the mention of his name uttered by none other than Katie Knight.

"And before we leave, we'd also like to congratulate our school's most prominent actor, James Diamond, for his accomplishments at the Minnesotan Repertoire Company's annual tournament. Good work James. Be sure to shake his and offer some applause if you see him today."

His head swelled for multiple reasons but mainly because he thought he saw the trace of a rosy sheen alighting her cheeks; feeling as though her eyes were staring straight into his soul through the technological barrier. Yet for all he knew, it could have been the cheap illumination setup used to stage the entire make-shift news production. And as soon as it began, she was already signing off the air.

"James, I knew you could do it!" Camille whispered a few seats away before shooting him an exaggerated thumbs up. He nodded to her, his lips pursed together; nodding his thanks wordlessly towards his friend before resuming his all-so-important task of defacing William Butler Yeats profile pasted along the parchment containing The Isle of Statues and The Tower, epic poetry of such power and visage which of course, was lost upon the ignorant youth.

"Yo, what's up with our leading man?" Kendall grinned, slapping the open-palm offered by James upon his arrival to the minuscule stage provided for theater productions. The arts were not as venerated as were the athletic feats of football, basketball and ice hockey, yet the thespian ensemble was growing per semester and gaining support even from the local community who had begun to cheer on the acting classes almost as vividly as they showed interest in the better funded programs.

"Ah cut it out Kendall, you know I couldn't have done it without everyone playing their role." James slid a hand through his bangs, shoving them out of his sight as he walked with his buddy across the polished wood flooring of the stage,

"It's not like I was that impressive. Besides, Kelly says the judges gave me some pretty harsh critiques so I still have a long way to go."

Kendall chanced to sneak a peek at his friend's suddenly downcast expression. Suddenly James's head perked up and tilted sideways as a friendly arm wrapped about his shoulders,

"Well, either way dude, you rocked your roll, everyone in school thinks so! I just came by before practice to give you some lovin'."

"Thanks K-dawg." His frown dissipated, replaced by one of his trademark smiles, "Taking the time to miss suiting up for hockey sure shows you care."

"That's what friends are for, aren't they buddy? Plus, missing sweating guys change has its benefits too." Kendall winked, breaking their bromantic embrace before things got too personal, "So are you still coming by the house for dinner? I know Carlos gets out of basketball around 6:30."

"Yeah, I'll be there." James nodded, setting his backpack down on a plush auditorium seat.

"Catch ya later then, I'm off to second period!" Kendall announced, shooting up the long carpeted aisle and bursting out the back doors, already five minutes late for his own extracurricular ambition.

James sighed, stepping back up to the hallowed ground, the stage set before the world for all to see. Or…it would be a stage for the world to see if anyone could.

"Hey Ben, get the lights!"

"Coming!" The boy up in the black box at the back of the theater called down through the speaker attached to the stereo system, pushing meticulously on brightly colored switches before a flash of light left James blinded.

"How's that?"

"Wow, that's bright. Ben, turn it down."

"Ben's not here today."

"What," James called, peering through the bleached wave of light, "Then who is it?"

"Logan."

"Oh…well," James found himself caught aback but swallowed his discomfort with that fact, "Do you even know how to work the lights?"

"Yeah, of-of course I do!" Somehow, the skinny boy's answer did not assure James of his skills in the slightest.

"Okay, well, could you turn it down a bit?" He squinted, using the flat of his hand to block the obtrusive artificial flare of the bulbs.

"Yeah, yeah, sure!" Suddenly the lights flashed off until slowly forming a subtle tone of murky yellow.

"A little brighter." And then they were shot back up again to the far outer rings of Saturn before quickly jumping back down somewhere in the middle, still almost shockingly white.

"Is that good?" Logan called worriedly from the sound and lighting board, his voice muffled over the loud speaker.

"Perfect, just perfect."

Next period left a space for James to calm down from the trial during theater class today. As James strolled into the computer lab for his third period Algebra II course, James could have sworn that he deserved a medal for how he kept his patience with that awkward and socially challenged kid!

Shrugging off his annoyance, he headed over to the quadrant near the back of the room where Carlos and Kendall were situated at,

"Hey, what've you got for me boys?"

"Only wait a couple more minutes, boss." The Latino grinned, his eyes crinkling with a mischievous light, passing a quick high-five to the beanie wearing blonde still sweating from his second period hockey practice.

"Good work. I'll be right back." With that he sauntered off towards the professor governing today's lab, none other than Mr. Gustavo Rocque or familiarly known as Mr. G by the vast student body, both a Math teacher and frequent snack decomposer.

"Anything new since this morning?"

"Ah, you know, same old, same old. Once you've been teaching high school as long as I have, nothing will surprise you. Wait just a sec-Carlos!"

The individual in question looked up like a deer caught in the headlights, a guilty expression written all over his face.

"How many times have I told you not to touch other computers than your own?"

"Uh…more than I can count?" He offered meekly, a remark which caused the larger man to relinquish a sigh,

"And that's why you are basically failing my course." The harsh comment deflated the already convicted criminal's ego, damaging it further the moment Carlos's sensitive ears picked up the hushed giggles directed at his misconduct.

"I want you to visit Griffin for a few minutes, maybe it'll clear your head."

"What? But Mr. G-" The tan boy complained, his argument rudely cut off by Mr. Rocque's sarcastic reply,

"Now don't you 'Mr. G' me! I've already given you three warnings today, now scoot!"

Hanging his head in defeat, Carlos passed a cd to his accomplice before exiting the room, motioning for Kendall to insert the disk before being scolded yet again by the typically jovial instructor.

"Now that that has been taken care of, we'll get back to business." A pudgy finger gripped the rim of his black glasses as Mr. Rocque made himself more comfortable in his chair, prying them off his bearded face,

"Well now James, maybe I'm not as super cool as I used to be, but I think I can tell when a young man has a lot on his mind."

"No, I'm fine." James swallowed, his happy-go-lucky demeanor slipping with the kindly yet inquisitive scope of his teacher's ability to discern inaudible emotion,

"You're fine?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"I guess you look fine." Gustavo conceded with a gruff cough before wiping smudged lenses on his shirt,

"But you might want to get a haircut." The pair laughed before the portly teacher once again resumed their low-spoken conversation,

"You sure you're fine?" James met his teacher's gaze before glancing off to the side, momentarily checking to see if Kendall was staying on task before returning to the topic,

"No…I, well…it's stupid."

"I'm a high school teacher, I know stupid. Try me."

"I don't know, I just, uh…I've been thinking a lot about my future lately. And I just don't know if this road I'm on is exactly what I want any more, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I do. By any chance, would this road concern, I don't know…women?"

He guessed it! James flushed, surveying the room quickly before nodding.

"Well, is there anything wrong with this road?"

"I-I don't know, I guess…I just don't think the road I want, is-available."

"Well, if it's not available, the choice is pretty easy." Gustavo urged, waiting to see his student's reaction.

"Yeah," James sighed, loose bangs hanging down with the weight of his depressed head, "I told you it was pretty stupid."

"Well c'mon James, I knew it'd be stupid…it's you after all." He joked, patting the boy on the shoulder. And instead of removing his heavy hand, he instead left the meaty palm on the boy's shoulder, joking cast aside,

"But you know James, any road can be repaired if you try hard enough. And if you…if you really care for this girl, I think…and this is just my opinion…well, I think that you should go for her."

"Really, you mean it?"

"Yeah, really." Gustavo sagely nodded, tucking the rims of his glasses back over his ears," You have a long life in head of you. And in this life, I've learned that when you find something that matters, you ought to fight for it."

"And they say you're just a math teacher." James shook his head while stifling a laugh, allowing the older man to lean back into his swivel chair.

"I'll tell you a secret. I don't even like math."

"What?" James asked incredulously.

"Nope. I hate it. Don't tell anybody." And his tiny eyes shielded by those square glasses were twinkling with mirth and James could not help but to join in with it,

"I won't."

Gustavo sifted his weight in the uncomfortable chair, about to refocus on the task he left alone while preoccupied with the deep conversation held between himself and his young mentee. Clicking on a link, successfully propelling a detailed slideshow discussing the intermolecular structure of mathematical pie charts upon the blank overhead, the faint chirping of an alarm resounded until the repetitive warning blared into a full scale siren.


	2. Nightmare Awakened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although it's short, hopefully this chapter can amp up the suspense ;)
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> All characters of Big Time Rush © Nickelodeon and script inspiration (c) Andrew Robinson

"I knew it was too good to be true, someone just had to set off the alarm before summer break." Gustavo chortled, rubbing his temple in aggravation caused by the incessant noise up above. James however was not smiling, glancing at the blinking red alarm bell located on the surface of the plaster ceiling.

"So…there wasn't supposed to be a fire drill during lunch?"

"No but I bet it was set up by one of your buddies, right James?" He prodded the cautious youth playfully in the shoulder before heaving himself up from his reclining chair,

"Alright, up everybody! You know the drill, single file out of the class room and wait for me in the hall."

Upon filing out, James shot Kendall an accusatory glare to which the innocent boy shrugged his shoulders, sliding up behind his taller companion to whisper,

"It wasn't me!"

"Okay, okay, shush up," He snapped, casting a quick peek to see if his teacher was eavesdropping, "We don't want Mr. G guessing that we were the ones who hacked into his slide show presentation when we get back. So try to be cool, alright Kendall?"

"Whatever you say, dude." Kendall grinned, cutting James off from the doorway by purposely stepping in front of him. Hazel eyes rolled in slight amusement at his friend's child-like gesture, joining the rest of his class outside their classroom.

Suddenly a faint rumbling sound could be heard, thundering into a panicked roar as a mob of students went rushing down a hallway to their left. Screams and the creak of banging lockers increased as the startled class peered down the previously undisturbed hallway.

"This can't be good..."Mr. Rocque murmured to himself before taking a few steps towards the conjunction.

Bang, bang!

Two loud shots ricocheted down the aisle, one bullet searing the power core of the electrical system to the interior quarter of the high school.

The lights zapped off, leaving a pack of students floundering down the narrow stretch unoccupied by hot led. The math teacher whirled back, ushering his students into the abandoned classroom, hurriedly instructing them to hide beneath their desks,

"Hurry, let's go! Everyone on the floor, now!" The collection of students did as they were told, many in their haste bumping into the corners of the desks or a few who actually attempted to jump over a table to get further away from the door. The majority of girls, who had scattered to do as they were ordered, now huddled together, gripping one another in fear, tears already trailing down a small number of paranoid faces.

"Calm down, you need to calm down!" Gustavo yelled, slamming the door behind himself, "There are no windows in here, whoever's shooting at us won't be able to see us. We're safe."

"How safe can we be if the shooter tries to get into this room?" A frizzy black-haired girl named Peggy wailed, prompting the break out of yet another round of frenzy. James stumbled over a chair, managing to reach Kendall in the darkness. Pulling his crouching friend to his feet, the pair approached Gustavo,

"There is only one exit in this hall; we can't stay here!"

"You will James; we are all staying together!"

"No, I'm not going to die in this computer lab!" James protested, "We have to get out and get help!"

"I can't just let you leave! No, I'm not hearing this, you're staying here."

"Look Gustavo," James gripped his teacher by his thick shoulder blades, staring at him straight in the eye, "There isn't even a lock on this door. Sooner or later, we'll be found and killed."

"James is right, we have to get outside!" Kendall agreed, light green eyes pleading with the robust man blocking their exit. Gustavo bit his lip, debating their proposal before announcing to the class,

"Okay everyone listen, we're headed to the storage room! Get to the back of the classroom, follow me and stay quiet."

The two friends exchanged a dubious glance but were prodded harshly forward before they could protest again. The mass of students shot out from beneath their desks, cramming together in the meager supply closet conjoined to their room and the neighboring geometry teacher's.

"Come on James, get in here!" Gustavo yelled over the chaos to James who appeared frozen outside of the closet door.

"No," His voice fell slowly, gazing intently at all the scared faces of his classmates peering back at him, "This…this doesn't feel right."

"I want you to get in here right now." Mr. Rocque practically growled, eyes hidden behind thin wire rimmed-glasses penetrating James with a gravitational pull towards the only means of safety he could find for his students.

"I-I'm sorry, I just can't."

"James, please." The grown man's voice dropped as he scanned the face of the young man standing before him, resolute in his denial.

"I'll be fine, I promise." After a momentary pause, Mr. Rocque's composure dropped, permitting the teacher to wrap his favored pupil in his arms for a brief moment before choking on his words,

"Be safe." A slimmer of a smile ghosted on the brunette's features at his minuscule victory over the authority figure trying to bond the rebellious teen to this presumed death trap. He twisted, pulling Kendall away with him while calling over his shoulder that they would be careful.

"You'd better…you'd better run!" Gustavo yelled, gazing after the two figures retreating out into the open hallway, slipping past the last known barrier of safety until the teacher no longer could bare the weight of the situation-bolting the storage room door tightly and praying with all his might that this crazy situation was only a nightmare.


	3. Flight

Thus wings unfurled and took flight, allowing Kendall and James to navigate their way through the upturned classroom. Almost upon breaching the door, the solid frame still creaking on its hinges, Kendall slammed into James's unsurpassable back,

"Yo man, what gives? We've got to book it!"

"Hold up, I think I hear something."

Back tracking slightly, he dropped to the floor the moment his ears picked out a quiet sniffling sound. Rummaging past a disassembled bookcase, the brunette came across the slender form of a girl cowering beneath a desk.

"Jo, is that you?" James called, crouching down to reach her eye level, "Please Jo, we have to go!" However, he received no response.

"James is it-oh?" Kendall asked, ears perking up at the name. Leaning over a bench, he almost had to catch his breath at the image of the pretty blonde's bright cheeks streaked with delicate tears,

"We can't just leave her here. I mean…she'll slow us down but still James, we shouldn't…we can't-" Kendall's irrational fears were distilled by the shaking head of his friend, assuring him that they would not abandon their classmate.

Then he resumed coaxing Jo out from her reclusive state, Kendall pitching in until they were able to drag her from beneath the wooden surface,

"Don't worry, everything will be alright." Kendall urged, subconsciously smoothing her flaxen hair in a gentle nature as the boys helped her to her feet, "Now, I'm-I'm going to pick you up, okay?"

James handed her off to the stronger hockey player who swiftly hefted her up, lifting her petite body across his shoulders to settle onto his back. Nodding that he was ready, Kendall wordlessly trotted behind James posing as the leader, who was already cautiously scouting ahead.

The ominous boom of the metal bell screeched incessantly overhead, tolling warnings of doom and destruction for all who were unfortunate enough to hear its symphonic melody. Ragged breathing escaped lips trembling with exhilaration as sharp spikes of fear jolted the bumbling pair out into the dim hallway, the boys glancing left and right in a panic along the winding corridors towards freedom.


	4. What Heaven Allows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews/critiques are appreciated.
> 
> I do not claim copyright to this story nor am I making any profit.
> 
> Big Time Rush © Nickelodeon

Bursting out of the classroom, the two boys carrying their sobbing classmate took a quick left down the dim corridor as another round of bullets sounded off yards away. A couple of heads peeked out at the rim of a barred window, viewing the fleeing trio from the lab adjacent to their own.

"It's stopped," A boy whispered to his pupils crowded by the archway, cupping a pierced ear to the door as the sound of pattering feet rushed by, "We should get the hell out of here!"

"Run?" Another boy suggested, his green eyes lighting up with hope.

"No, no, no, don't, don't! You can't leave!" Logan wailed, "We need to stay!"

Skulls turned towards the sputtering individual whose hands were flailing wildly in an attempt to persuade the others to see his reasoning,

"Shush! You can stay here and die then. Better you than me." Green irises sparked, cold as steel as they glared back into the doe-eyes of the lone objector,

"But-but that's crazy! He can't get in here; he won't be able to find us!"

"He's got a gun, moron! He can shoot through the door." The ashy brown, spiked-haired boy with the diamond piercings argued.

"I say we bail." Green-eyes decided, twisting the handle as he stood up, the remaining students following suit. Logan sat perplexed, frantically silent as he watched the forms of his classmates scurrying past the doorway.

Faux stones shining in his earlobes, the last frame paused his retreat and reproachfully muttered back to the frightened, pale young man frozen to the ground,

"You're so stupid."

Turning around another bend, James stumbled into a wide area, many different routes presenting themselves to the wearied scout, all beckoning at once for him to come discover the paradise which lay beyond.

"What do you think?" Kendall hastily remarked, puffing slightly as he stood a pace behind his closest friend, Jo positioned across his shoulder like a pig sentenced to market.

"Uh…uh."

"James! Choose man, we don't have much time!" As if commanded by magic words, the barrage of gunshots started up again, only this time, it seemed like they had minutes to spare before the unknown assailant rounded the corner and captured them in his trap, like timid rabbits in a fox's den.

"Alright, alright…um-this way!"

By the grace of God, James had chosen correctly, selecting a path which led to an exit. The sprinters were deposited right onto a grassy knoll that came to rest at the basin of the school's exterior before arching into the sweeping forest that divided the campus from the nearby freeway and suburbs.

They raced down the hill, gazing at a sight so peculiar that it caused their full out hustle to lapse into a jog as they observed the puzzling scene before them.

A wall of a fence separated them from the sole source of freedom. Resistant hands short forth, seeking sky and light, hoping without hope to emerge above the iron trapeze that bound them to the sodden earth. James pushed harshly through the crowd of frantic students that had bolted from the confines of their educational prison, aiming for the locked gate.

However, there was no way through the chaotic mass of people clamoring forward, scrapping and clawing to make any leeway. Wincing, James noticed the ones closest to the fence were being crushed upon it, their palms cut open by the sharp metal or trampled by those more agile and hell-bent to escape regardless of the pain it caused the abused.

James motioned for Kendall to set his package aside, which he promptly did without hesitation,

"Wait here Jo, I'll be right back." Although the fleeting touch of his quivering fingertips against her cheek did not match his soothing tone, she faintly nodded, relaxing into the grass as Kendall departed from her side.

"Let's go, bro!" James shouted above the roar, darting to a wooden lunch table meters from the barrier of the fence. Others at the outskirts of the frenzy realized the lengthy brunette's plan and instantly moved to assist the struggling team who had already managed to shift the slab of wood forward on their own.

As a unit, they heaved the jittering piece of furniture upwards, thrusting it full speed at the fence, causing those in front to scatter like chaff in the wind. With a grunt, the table hit the iron railing, tearing a crease in the intersecting structure just wide enough to scramble over top.

Without waiting, the mob poured over the depression in the fence, shoving, shouting, and stampeding their way out of the school yard. Hastening across the field, the sun sparkled in shafts as it sunk lower into the west, cascading the climactic scene with a sense of awe and fatigue as mere souls ran for all they were worth, a few joining hands while others were left in the dust.

Down the road, the faint whine of a siren set up a howl that soon formed into a crescendo as a trail of police cars swarmed up the lone road towards Maplewood High. The white and blue striped automobiles with the city crest drove into the parking lot, their tires screeching to a halt as officers disembarked, pistols at the ready.


	5. The Starlight Lost in Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days-I'm on a role!
> 
> I do not claim copyright nor am I profitting in any way although that would be helpful for a broke University student like me c:
> 
> Big Time Rush © Nickelodeon

County police unloaded from their cars, the barrels of their guns cocked and aimed directly towards the channel of students and teachers stumbling their way from all corners of the high school. A squadron of athletes blazed from the gym, sweat streaming afresh from their foreheads and limbs while a large trash bin was upturned in the process. A teacher tripped and crumpled to the ground, her heel snagged by a discarded backpack while panicked students hovered past her, lifting their palms as high as possible upon the order of the weapon-wielding men in uniform. Screaming, the incessant screech of the alarm bell, dust and smoke contorted the passage to the parking lot with utter pandemonium.

Inside was no different, the many locked doors causing the inmates to stir in a crazed frenzy. Silently, a grim, greasy dark figure strode down the stairwell from the second flight, his image recorded upon a security camera tucked high into a corner located by the chemistry sector.

Not all that far away, Logan sat as if transfixed in a state of stupor. Blinking, he fazed out of the trance and awoke to dismal surroundings. All was still in the abandoned computer lab, quiet like the silky fingers of death. Unable to stand it any longer, he bolted.

Faltering down the aisle, he suddenly braked and caught himself against the junction of the paved wall and a row of navy blue lockers. Inching to the edge, he peered cautiously around his make-shift barrier.

A poor decision.

There lay bodies on the floor, crimson blood splattered transversely upon the walls while the largest quantity pooled beneath. Shivering with horror, Logan stumbled backwards, cowering in his crevice. He gaped blankly ahead, the image cold and lifeless as the corpses behind him.

On impulse, he struggled to his feet, propelling his weak legs forward. Skidding, he slammed past the lockers, hesitantly dropping looks over his left shoulder blade, knowing that the shooter must be hot on his trail. With a whoosh, a swarm joined his flow.

"Come on! Hurry up." He panted, parting a swinging door open for a few teenagers trailing him before slamming it shut, his deep brown eyes roving down the hallway, settling on the forgotten souls they had just left behind.

* * *

Breaking through the underbrush of the backwoods that Maplewood High was so fondly known for, James and the legion of fleeing students escaped, twisting betwixt pine and fir. Jo gripped both Kendall and James's hands fervently, her face scrunched in pain as she was dragged along between them at the head of this disorganized expedition.

"W-wait up!" She gasped, dropping to her knees. James's arm was lurched back, Kendall crashing harshly into his side while the pack drove round them, shoving the fallen girl and her saviors out of their path.

"Jo, Jo come on, please we have to keep-ugh!" Tackled, Kendall fell to the ground. James whirled about, gripping the offending boy's shoulder,

"Hey get off him man!" But his protection was not needed for the attacker was merely one of Kendall's fellow hockey mates who was gripping his blonde friend for pure joy.

"God Kendall, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Jason, are you alright?" Kendall asked, hands pressed firmly on the other's forearms.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Mike is too." Jason beamed, tilting his head to the rotund goalie who was sluggishly meandering up next to James. Instantly, the brunette pestered him with lighting speed,

"Whose shooting?"

"W-we don't know."

"Is this it? Did you see anyone else?" The bulky Mike shook his head slowly, eyes looking questionably towards Jason who was next to be under James's interrogation,

"Are you sure?" Breaking his tight hold on Kendall, Jason wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded solemnly,

"No one else, we were the last ones from the field."

And now James stood, rooted to the earth as an oak, gazing back harrowingly at the high school, knowing that _she_ was still trapped inside.

* * *

"Good morning students," James recalled the bright voice of Maplewood's theater director, Miss Kelly Wainwright, a conversation playing out in his mind a few weeks prior to the whole catastrophic event. The efficient African American woman, with a knack for picking talent, strolled down center aisle of the impressive enclosed amphitheater, addressing the new assortment of thespians,

"I apologize for the blindfolds." She quipped, stalking by the twelve bound to plastic chairs with strips of colorful cloth wrapped around their hands and heads,

"But apparently our team captain thought he'd take an otherwise fun tradition and notch it up a bit to kidnapping." She exchanged a glance with her favored pupil, a light twinkling in both their eyes.

The stage lights engulfed the captives on the platform as suppressed chuckles resounded from the upperclassmen who had already endured such punishment in the early years of their theatrical apprenticeship. Upon a signal, they took the dais, each positioning themselves behind a chair only to begin loosening the cords from their restricted wrists.

"Welcome to the team, buddy!" A curly-headed sophomore was saluted in by two juniors who, as soon as the youngster's hands were free, cupped his in a clasp of camaraderie.

"Hey, how you doin'." James had smiled at a newly released blonde, her mascara slightly smudged on her cheeks. He quietly laughed to himself, calmly meandering through the new ranks that would make up his team before halting in front of one particular individual.

She rose in her seat, ascending like an angel through mist to greet him. Her slender back arched in order to lift her arms bound behind her towards him, her soft voice very clear,

"Hello." She knew it was him! He drew breath sharply, composing himself as James neared her, heatedly noticing how attractive her blind, helplessness struck him.

"Let me take this off for you." Ever so gently, his fingers lifted the calico bandanna, revealing amber eyes much like his own.

"Thanks." She smiled, glancing downwards before once again lifting those precious eyes to meet his gaze.

"You're welcome."

"I-uh" Awkward, she motioned below with her rounded shoulders, directing his attention to her hands bound with laces.

"Oh!" Realization dawned, forcing James to mentally chastise himself for becoming distracted,

"Yeah," She giggled, subconsciously tilting her hips at an angle to make it easier for this familiar, almost-grown boy to reach behind and untie the strings.

However, instead of retreating behind her willing torso, he lent forward, his Roman nose nestling into the smoothness of her hair. Startled, her eyes flashed sideways, noticing how the long time crush of her childhood could not help but inhale the scent of her jasmine perfume as he fumbled far longer than necessary with the cotton strips.

"Alright, there you go." He broke apart before she knew it and instantly, she missed the warmth that radiated forth from the beautiful man standing before her.

"Thanks, I guess. I take it that this was your idea?" The couple turned, a smile cracking through both their lips.

"Umm hmm." He nodded, eyes crinkling like a two-year old prankster sneaking away with pilfered cookies.

"Well captain..." She brushed back a stray curl that had slipped from her side ponytail before locking eyes with the one towering above her petite form,

"For future reference James, I can take anything you can dish out."

"Oh is that so?" He retorted playfully, eyebrows arching in surprise at her bold nature.

"Yeah."

"Okay, it's settled then." He agreed, turning away as the bell rang, dismissing the period. Miss Wainwright stood at a distance, observing the entire scene unfold. Shaking her head in disbelief, she clapped her hands and motioned the rest of her students to the door,

"Everyone, get to class."

"I-I should go." Katie offered first, setting the bandanna onto the seat she had been held hostage upon for fifteen minutes. With that, she departed, leaving James alone on the stage, blissfully unaware of the rate his fragile heart had been pumping.


	6. Dust is the Devil's Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I just discovered the most wonderful band and style of music to write to! It's post-rock, ambient music and the lovely musicians are _Hammock _(from whome many of the chapter titles are from) & a more upbeat one called _Safetysuit_! I highly recommend them for studying, writing and dreaming c:__  
>  _  
>  _I do not claim to own any of these characters nor am I profiting from this work__  
>  _  
>  _Big Time Rush © Nickelodeon__  
> 

The bronze alarm continued to pound into Mr. Rocque's mind as he glimpsed out from the tunnel he had formed within the walk-in supply closet. The coast was clear and they had waited long enough.

"Okay kids." He knelt to reach the same level as his class,

"If you wanna stay, you can. But if you want to go, I think all the action is on the other side of the building at the moment. So if we hurry, we can make it out right now. Alright?" He straightened up, sliding the rim of his glasses further into his thick brow line,

"Here's the deal-single file, stay low, right on my heels the entire time, you got that?" He received nods of understanding, encouraging him to open the door further and permit those at the front to slip out and crouch at his feet. Flipping his attention back to the vacant hallway, he explained,

"When I say run, you run. Do not look back. Do not stop running 'til you get to the police outside. Go!" He sent them off, tapping the shoulders of one then the next, allowing meager seconds to hang in the balance between start offs.

As the handful of maturing children bolted, Mr. Rocque hefted himself up and joined their flight.

"Mr. G!" Carlos shouted, shirt untucked and blowing about his thighs as he sloppily added to the assembly hastening down the single aisle towards the left wing exit.

"What in the world are you doing here Garcia?" The large man bellowed, assuming that the troublemaker had made it out first as the front office was closest to the common escape routes.

"I went to the office like you told me to sir," He explained, jogging along almost nonchalantly, however jittering fingers revealed nerves that had run raw with tension,

"But Principal Griffin was out. The-the front office attendant sent me back, I reached our classroom…but you all had left. I just sp-spotted you from across the hall!"

"Glad to see you're safe. Now get moving!" Gustavo instructed, glancing down a parallel row. Out of his periphery, he saw movement but it was too late. Down he went, a bullet lodged in his abdomen.

Carlos pivoted at the explosion, spreading his palms against the wall for support as he witnessed his teacher's fall. Striking his gaze upwards, he managed to catch the silhouette of a young man disappear to the right. However Gustavo broke his concentration, urging his student with a harsh tone,

"Go, keep running!" Carlos peered at the backs of his classmates who had already reached the exit, pushing on the horizontal railing and out towards freedom. Pausing only for a second, he instead dashed to the side of his injured educator. Carlos shot his arms beneath the man's armpits, hoisting the body double his size down the nearest alleyway and out of the line of fire.

Gustavo even managed to assist Carlos with his portion of the weight, propping his torso up by walking backwards as best he could. They stumbled into an open doorway, the desks and chairs upturned; the entire classroom left in utter shambles.

Setting Mr. Rocque to the floor as gently as possible, Carlos flew to the doorway, stuffing a bookcase beneath the handle before finding more equipment to block the entry. As he did so, Gustavo gripped at his own chest, blood gurgling and staining his plaid flannel.

"K-kid," he uttered, stilling Carlos's actions of throwing chairs on the amassing heap of debris before the door. Sickened, the youth returned to his professor's side, ripping his grey tank top off with haste, applying cotton and pressure to the wound,

"I-I don't know what to do!"

"You've done enough…it's okay." Gustavo managed, observing the shirtless boy go into a period of hysterics on the brim of tears,

"Hey, hey! Carlos, look at me!" Sparse energy lifted a pudgy hand onto the bare bicep of his pupil, his voice ragged between gasps,

"Everything's…going to be alright-the cops are right outside. They'll be here any minute. It'll be fine...we just have to...hang tight. Okay?" Carlos wearily nodded, a moist substance building at his creased lashes as he saw Mr. Rocque's strength give out, resting the balding crown on the dirty carpet,

"You did good, son."

* * *

 

Aloud, the mind-numbing whine of the alarm bells tolled, never ending their constant grief. Logan reclined against the heavy steel door that blocked the entry way to the portion of the hallway that he had secured.

"Hey," He whispered to the hardly breathing frame of a girl lying face down on the cold tile, "Are…are you okay?"

There was no reply. After quite a while of staring at her, he noticed the rise of her chest from his position against the door. With a grunt, he heaved himself to his hip, then to his legs and was hovering over her, prodding her limp arm,

"Get up. We have to get out of here. Come on…why won't you move?" Nevertheless, he still did not receive a response. Rotating her, he managed to drag dead weight into his arms.

A mechanic eye aligned at the movement, recording black and white feed as the skinny boy carried a girl out of the destroyed high school. Her arm hung loosely, swaying with each footstep. Logan breached the exit when the dark, hunched forms of security guards crowded into the foyer.

Glazed, he watched as he deposited the unknown girl into the waiting hands of the professionally trained government employees, overcome with exhaustion and an increasing sense of guilt.

* * *

 

The two hockey players who had met up with the original lone ranger and his side kick took over the lead, heading towards Jason's house which was inside the first neighborhood track on the border of the high school premises. They popped through an opening between two quaint, Colonial-styled country homes, dodging a wheelbarrow and abandoned garden rake splayed out upon the grass. The group trotted to a halt, instantly swept up with the commotion occurring on multiple front lawns and atop the asphalt which has been turned into a shoddy regrouping center.

All around them medical personnel and police ran about, escorting weeping families away from their loved ones born on stretchers towards that ominous, white truck plastered with beaming lights and the image of twin, red snakes climbing a pole. Two giant fire trucks had already assembled in the cul-de-sac, the men acting as executives, recording names of those who lay still and cold on the cement.

"I don't recognize anyone." James commented, dazed as he constantly changed the direction he was facing.

"Me neither, thank God." Kendall agreed, holding the back of his hand to his mouth as he caught the image of a face blown through the cheek bone, the middle-aged teen completely indecipherable. To the left, a nurse was bandaging the arm of a boy, his scuffed chin and ripped jeans evidence to his narrow run with death. The fellow below had not been so fortunate, his kidney spurting the dark, wretched plasma needed to stabilize his rapidly decreasing heart rate.

Jason turned his face away after seeing the face of a girl he knew from class, the pallor of her cheeks signaling that she was close to passing out or worse. Mike kindly embraced his close friend, pulling his inches-shorter team mate into the padding of his chest, murmuring,

"Don't worry dude, Amy's still alive. Look, she's breathing-they are just taking her to the ambulance." And that fact was true, she was still conscious, her eyes cloudy and unaware as medics loaded her onto a stretcher.

With a screech, a new automobile breached the scene. Out stepped a Channel 9 newscaster, his suave, firmly pressed suit shifting as he approached the heart of the action,

"This is breaking news people; let's go, let's go...get those cameras rolling!" Taking care to fix the styling of his hair one final time, he lapsed into a highly energetic oration,

"As you can see behind me, everyone who had fled Maplewood High has taken refuge in a nearby development as family members and neighbors do their best to aid the relief. Those in dire need are being dispatched as we speak. The remaining students are being urged to visit the many trauma centers throughout the city." Motioning to the camera man that his spiel was finished, his blue-grey eyes lit up as he most cheerfully asked,

"Did we get it?"

Disgusted, James turned his back upon the reporter, bitterness sinking into the pit of his stomach that this man, as well as numerous other agents, would be reviling in the traumatic reaction this story was to bring to the media within the following days.

"James, oh James!"

"K-Katie?" He picked up his head, frantically searching the crowd for the familiar face to match the sweet voice he had just heard.

"James!" She was calling out to him again and yet he could not find her! He shouted her name aloud, Kendall within earshot, causing her older brother to turn around, astonished.

"Oh my goodness, James!" And she crashed into him, wrapping her arms around his body, his colossal limbs enveloping her without thought.

"You okay?"

"Yes Jennifer, I'm fine." James consented, attempting to pull away from the fierce grip she had about his neck,

"Did you see anybody else, did you see Katie?" Violently, she shook her head, her chocolate brown fro wavering. Stepping back, she tearfully looked up into his face,

"Nobody, I saw nobody. Me and the others just ran." Noticing his crestfallen features, she offered,

"They said that they are trying to get people to the elementary school, maybe she's there?"

"The elementary, which-"

"Jefferson, you know the one off Bake and-" Clutching her hands, he broke her sentence off, her suggestion giving him a cause for renewed determination,

"Yeah, I've got it, thanks Jenn!" He swiftly called to the others,

"Hey, we gotta go! Where's Jason?" Kendall and Mike shrugged until a sob wracked the air. Jason was bent over a body still secured to a stretcher, sobbing as he cupped Amy's face, parting the hair away from her neck. She was gone.

"You guys stay here," James ordered, pain for his friend's loss reminding him of how that could be him closing the eyelids of the pretty girl he loved,

"I'm going to go. Stay here." He started to back away but his direct order was dismissed as Kendall rashly objected,

"I'm coming with you!" Earth and the sea contrasted as the friend's studied the other's intentions wordlessly. James finally relented, the duo sprinting off once more.

"Be careful!" Jennifer called, worriedly watching them run to the end of the block only to wave their arms and convince a driver to give them a lift in his Toyota pickup. They piled into the back of the truck, slapping the metal hide to signal that they were ready to go. A cloud of dust chugged up under the wheel as they swerved out of the parking lot, sending a spray of rock shards and gravel flying in every direction.


End file.
